Pat Down and Felt Up
by americalovesthecockpit
Summary: England must go through America's very extensive security pat down in order to fly home. It's smut but written for laughs from America's totally awesome point of view, dude.


Note - For those of you who don't keep up with current events, this is spoofing the new controversial airport pat downs American travelers have to go through. Also, this is written from America's point of view because I thought it'd be funny.

X

"Have your bags been in your possession the entire time?"

That was the _totally important _question I asked England. I guess he didn't get that it was for the protection against those crazy terrorists. I mean, we can't let them win, you know.

"Of - of course they have," he replied with this dumb look on his face. "I don't just go off and give strangers my luggage."

"Ah, good! And did anyone other than yourself pack your bags?"

Another important question! It is very necessary for safety to ask if you want to protect yourself from hijackers. They are crafty devils!

But England just didn't get it. "You stupid git! Why would I let anyone else pack my bags!"

"You never know, England!" I replied with an awesome grin. Really, it just radiated awesomeness. But it always does that. "Terrorists might have offered to help and you might have said yes! Then they could put a bomb in your luggage and then what, dude!"

"I think I'd know that … " he muttered. He thought I didn't hear him but I so totally did.

"Maybe you were drinking! I don't know!"

"Wha - what did you say!"

England looked pretty mad at me then, but whatever. What else is new, right? "Here's your ticket stub! Now you just have to go through security and then you can wait at the gate."

I heard him sigh. "Let me guess. You're doing that, too, aren't you?"

"OF COURSE!" I said. No, more than said. PROCLAIMED. "Gotta keep things safe from the terrorists!" I totally proclaimed that, too.

You see boys and girls, despite being a bitchy whiner at my airport, there's nothing England can do. He's totally at my house. And my house, my rules! He needs a flight back to his own house, but unless he plans to swim the entire Atlantic Ocean he's gotta do what I say. And dude, that ocean's pretty big last I checked. It covers the whole right side of my world map!

"Oh, bloody hell," England whined. "Don't tell me you're the pilot, too."

"Ha ha ha!" That's my hero laugh. "Of course I am! I'm an expert pilot! Been flying for over a century now, you know. I'm the best! Did you know I invented the plane -"

"Oh, shut up already!" England totally interrupted. How rude. Not cool, dude. You don't interrupt the HERO. "I don't need to hear you bragging about your planes. I just want to go home!"

"Aw, cheer up, bro! I got good news!" I totally flashed a badass pose with a thumbs up right then. I know you can't see this because this is just boring text but believe me, it was SO AWESOME. "You've been randomly selected for extra security!"

"What! That's not good news!" England bitched some more. "And it certainly does not match your silly pose. Why would you think that's a good thing?"

"Because now I totally get to use my new machine I invented!" I held up the pamphlet for him to see. "Awesome, right?"

"Rapiscan!" he whined again. Except he pronounced it _rape_-a-scan instead of the correct way, _rap_-ee-scan. What a silly old Brit he was. They always say words wrong, like aluminum and schedule. Even though he was the one to first invent the language, who cares? I improved it! And I say to-may-to, you _don't_ say to-mah-to!

"Ha ha ha!" I laughed at his mispronunciation. "No, it's not a rape machine! It just takes pictures of you through your clothes!"

"So it eye-rapes you. Great. That's _much _better."

I think he was being sarcastic because he didn't look too happy. "You don't have to worry, England! I'll show you it's harmless! I mean, it's not like you want to have kids anyway!"

"What! How much radiation does that thing emit!"

We walked over to my super awesome non-raping machine. I'll skip to that part because you don't want me to write about boring walking, do you? I mean, reading is boring enough as it is! I'm not a fan of reading so I assume you aren't either despite you reading this story.

"Look, England!" I was showing him the cool machine. "Pretty sweet, huh, dude? You just step in and that's it! It takes your picture and you're on your way!"

"Humph," said England. He was being all pouty with his arms crossed. "I don't want you seeing a picture of the contours of my body. That's an invasion of privacy."

"OK, two things!" I proclaimed. Hehe, yeah. "One - it's for the sake of SAFETY! Gotta defend against the terrorists! And B, you do not have contours."

"Wahhh!" he said. Or yelped. Whatever that weird sound was. "Y-y-you don't know! This uniform just hides it!"

"HA HA! Whatever you say, England! But look." I printed out a picture from the machine. It was taken earlier, but don't tell anyone because we're not supposed to save or share those photos, hehe. "Here's Canada's photo. Not too revealing, huh?"

"BLOODY HELL, AMERICA!" England yelled, so totally not using his inside voice. "You can see everything! Twig, berries and all just hanging all out in the open!"

"Hahahaha," I laughed. "Dude, you said twig and berries! Instead of cock and ba-"

"No way am I getting in such a wretched machine! What a horrible violation of privacy!"

"Dude, come on. Be cool about it. Canada was cool about it. You're cooler than Canada, right?"

"Wait, who are we talking about again?"

"Canada! Though I don't know why he needed to take a flight home since we're in New York …"

He was making that pouty face again. "It doesn't matter. I refuse to submit to your rape-scanning machine."

"If you don't, you have to go through the pat down. That way I know you're not hiding any weapons!"

So I offered England to do it in a private room or out there. He griped for a few minutes about not wanting to do it at all since he never stops bitching, but then I gently reminded him of his alternatives. Actually, it wasn't very gently. Gently is for wimps like Canada. I totally shouted it like a real man and rubbed it in his face, so England finally gave in and chose a private room. He said something about retaining at least some of his dignity, but I wasn't really listening. I was too busy thinking about other things like how awesome I am.

"Let's get this over with," England said to me once in the room. He's such a negative Nancy.

"Right!" I proclaimed. "Now stick your arms out like this! And spread your legs a bit!"

England huffed but took the stance like I told him. So then it was time to go to work! I had to make sure he was not bringing anything aboard that could hijack a plane. That was totally my only reason for putting my hands on him. I mean seriously, dude. No other reason. You guys believe me, right?

I started with the chest. Touching with the palms, sliding motion, feeling every contour. That's the TSA way! Except England doesn't really have contours.

But England totally pulled away. Not cool dude. "You wanker!" he whined. "Why are you groping my chest!"

"Duh, England! That's how you do a pat down!"

"With your palms instead of the back of your hands? You're just feeling me up!"

"Ha ha ha!" I laughed awesomely. "Maybe you wish, England! But this is the TSA standard protocol! I'm only doing what's necessary to defend against terrorists. They hate our freedoms, you know."

"I don't feel like I have much freedom when you're rubbing your grubby burger-eating hands all over my - OI! What the hell! You shouldn't be squeezing!"

Silly England. Just because I grabbed some flesh and cupped it and then kept doing it doesn't mean I'm doing anything out of bounds. And just because the two areas just happened to be where he'd have breasts if he was a woman doesn't mean anything either. Nope. Totally not dude.

"It's not like you have boobs," I told him. "What does it matter?"

"It - it's still a sensitive area. I don't see why you have to grope it like that."

England totally had this weird look on his face. You know, when his eyes go all white and he stands there mouth agape. It looked like that. He also made this noise when I gripped harder, like a creaky whine. A bitchy squeak of protest. He just never stops complaining, does he! I'm only doing my job, duh.

"Hmm? Do I feel a weapon?" I asked, still feeling roughly because that's what's necessary to defend against terrorists. I didn't but I kept my hands there anyway. Can't be too sure, you know.

England grabbed my wrists. "There's no weapons, so get your hands off my nipples!"

"Ha ha! You have your shirt on, dude!" I told him. I mean seriously. He didn't know? "It's not like I'm making them hard or something!"

"R-right." England said that but it didn't sound like he believed it. I just stared back at him with my awesome hero smile. I didn't mean to give him 'a look' or whatever, but apparently England thought I did because he suddenly got even more pissy. "God, read the atmosphere, fool! You don't just talk about when you make someone's nipples hard!"

"I made your nipples hard?"

I was totally being serious when I said that. Like seriously serious! For real, guys. But England didn't believe me! "Um - well - I'm not saying _you_ made them hard, of course! Though - well - maybe you did. But not because of why you may think! It - it's just that your hands are a bit cold, you see …"

I just had to LOL again. "Ha ha ha! Don't worry, dude. Sometimes that happens to me when I go into the freezer section at the store to get ice cream. I get hard nips all the way to the register!"

"Wha - what a terribly embarrassing thing to say. Why on Earth would you share that with me?"

I didn't know what to say so I just stood there looking awesome. I mean, I thought that information was totally relevant, but whatever!

"Oi, let's just get this finished already," said pissy England after a sigh. "I have a flight to catch, after all."

"Totally!" I put my hands on his stomach. Then moved them to the lower back. Then to the stomach again. Boy was England's waist tiny! Tiny for a man, anyway. It kinda reminded me of a chick. I mean, not that I'm imagining what England would look like as a chick. I wouldn't do that, of course. Besides, he doesn't have the hips for a chick. I mean, I wasn't thinking about it at all. Nope.

As I felt him over, my finger came across his belly button. I stuck my finger in it, just for the heck of it. "Boop!" I said.

"Knock it off, you stupid yank! You need to be serious about this!"

I pouted a little. "You're supposed to say 'hoo hoo!' like the Pillsbury doughboy. Duh, England!" I poked his belly button again. "Do it right. Boop!"

He slapped my hand. It was a sissy slap if I do say so myself. And I just did. "No! You act like this so-called pat down is so important for 'terrorists' yet you don't even take it seriously! Now do it properly or … or …"

He looked so silly going from Mr. Mean Stern Jerk Man to a total uncertain sissy in less than one sentence. "Or what?" I asked with no ulterior motive, I swear.

"Oh, never mind. Just get on with your pat down already."

"Don't mind if I do!" I took my palm and put it on the inside of England's leg. I slid it up from the knee toward his crotch, but for some reason he totally pulled away!

"What are you doing!" he yelped. "You were about to put your hand on my - my - well …"

"Aw, come on, dude!" I said, laughing at a little at him. "You have the dirtiest mouth I know! You can say it! DICK!"

"Oh, America …" He rubbed his forehead for some reason, like he had a headache. "When will you ever learn that ever important thing called tact?"

"I don't need tact or that Atmosphere book you're always telling me about! Because I wasn't going for your penis anyway!" I definitely wasn't. I totally definitely wasn't. You can trust me, guys. "I was just feeling your inner thigh for any weapons that might be strapped there. I'll totally stop before I touch your crotch, duh!"

"Hmmm." England assumed the position. "Very well then. But no funny business."

My hand went back to its totally important work. Sliding up, down, up, down, up, down his inner thigh over and over. I just kept repeating myself. Because you can never be too sure. I guess I got really caught up protecting against terrorists, because I totally forgot his other thigh! So I used my other hand and did the same thing with it. At the same time. Yep, I was multi-tasking! Because I'm awesome.

"I think that's enough," said England. But he was totally wrong, like usual.

"Dude, trust me. I got to do a thorough job."

Now I was bending over to do this, which was a totally awkward angle. Not good for my back at all. So it was totally natural for me to get down on my knees to continue. I mean, it was so much more comfortable. Anyone in my position would do the same, of course! But silly England looked shocked when I got down like that. I guess because there wasn't a good place for me look anymore. Except right in front of me. But it was where my hands were anyway, so it was totally the correct place to look!

It was easier to move my hands while kneeling, too. I continued moving them back and forth, somewhat of a stroking motion, I guess, from the knee to the innermost part of the thigh I could without touching any naughty bits.

"Umph."

That was a weird sound England made! I looked up and apparently that took him off guard because he had this shocked look on his face. "What?" he asked all defensively. "I grunted from frustration, that's all. You are taking too long."

"Ha ha!" I laughed. "Well, if that's the case, then what is that?" I pointed to a bulge in his pants in the crotch area.

He was making that face again. You know, the one with the all white eyes. "It - it's not what you think it is, pervert!"

"Hmmm. So you're saying it's a concealed weapon then?"

"Wha - NO! Of course not! How many times do I have to tell you that I don't have any weapons?"

I was rubbing my chin, looking totally smart and heroic at the same time. God I'm awesome. "I see. I'll have to do a pat down to be sure of that."

"But you said you wouldn't touch there!" whined England. "You can't go back on your word!"

"That was before I had probable cause, duh, dude! Unless you're saying I chubbed you up or something. Ha ha!"

England got so totally mad at that. Like freakin' ridiculously mad. "YOU BLOODY WANKER! How dare you accuse me of - OH BULLOCKS."

If you're wondering why he stopped himself, it's because I cupped his crotch. Now you see boys and girls, I only did this out of protection for my nation. Against those damn commies. No, wait. I mean the terrorists. Crap.

What was I talking about again? Oh, yeah. Why I grabbed myself a handful of half-mast British cock. Well, it was to be absofruitly sure that this certain bulge in England's pants was not a hidden weapon. Because he certainly wasn't packing that much normally. I mean, _I'm_ not even that big. It had to be something. So yeah.

"Yo - you're touching it …" England said, all shocked and stuff.

"Yep!" I gave it a little squeeze. Then I thought. I thought hard. Like totally hard. About what it could be, of course! I didn't think about anything else. No, never. "Hmm, I guess it really isn't a weapon if it's soft like this … a grenade or something would be harder … but … hmmm …" Now normally I speak words good. But I was thinking so hard on things that I sorta just trailed off there for a moment. It's hard to think and talk at the same time. "But … it's getting harder now so I don't know what to think …"

England made that creaky squeak noise again. I cupped a little tighter, to get a better feel of what it could be, of course. I could have totally said it wasn't a weapon before because of its softness, but it got stiff in my hand so quick. I couldn't exactly call it soft anymore.

"America, I am going to be blunt with you," said England with a totally annoyed face. "Apparently I have to, since you refuse to read the atmosphere and acknowledge implied facts even when they are right in front of your face. Or in your hand in this case, I suppose." He sighed before bitching some more. "Listen to me - that is not a weapon. I said it, and we don't have to discuss it further. It's _not_ a weapon. Please understand what I am saying. Let go of me, and let's pretend this didn't happen."

I totally didn't like to be told what to do, so I squeezed harder. "Ha! It doesn't matter what you imply, England. Implying doesn't count when you're fighting against terrorism! I have to know for sure. And the only way to do that is to do a strip search."

"Oh no, I am not taking my pants off! That is completely out of the question!"

"Yeah, you better take off your shirt too just to be on the safe side." As I said this I grabbed the bottom of England's shirt and pulled up. It got caught at his arms but I just pulled harder until it came off. He was all squirmy and made this funny noise, but too bad because I got it off, ha ha!

Then I had it in my hand and looked back at him and his naked chest. Boy was he pale! He totally needed to get some sun, dude. But I did have to give him a little credit. His body wasn't quite as girly as I thought it was. There actually was a little muscle there. Toned, I guess was the better word. I mean, he wasn't built like me. I'm freakin' ripped. But he wasn't bad either, I guess. Oh, and his nipples were totally still hard. I guess he was still cold.

England tried to cover himself with his hands but they weren't enough. "Bloody hell! Give me back my shirt, you git!"

"Naaaah, we're not doing that." I threw the shirt across the room. England huffed and started to walk over to it, but I grabbed him by the waist and began to undo his belt.

"Let go of me!" he whined. He was totally squirming but I'm too powerful for him to get away from, hehe. "I refuse to submit to a strip search!"

That was too bad because just then I got the belt off! I folded it in half and cracked it. It makes the most badass noise if you do that. Love that, dude. Then I put it aside because I had a job to do! Which was get them pants off. I unbuttoned the top part and started to unzip.

England put his hand over mine, but not forcefully. It was all gentle and crap. "America, please." He had a different kind of look on his face now. It was all serious and kinda sad. His eyes even looked a little glassy. I sure hope it wasn't to cry because he's a guy and that's just not cool, dude. "Don't do this. I'm begging you."

"Why not? It's my job, dude!"

"Be-because. I don't want to you to see."

"See what? Your weapon?" That was it, guys. Practically a confession! I had no choice but to pull those pants off him. I yanked those suckers down boxers and all, and you wouldn't believe what I saw. I mean, it totally blew my mind. I couldn't believe my eyes. There was no weapon!

Instead there was just England's very erect cock. It was dripping a trickle of a white fluid from the tip.

England sighed this noise that sounded so embarrassed that I wanted to totally LOL at him. I guess he didn't want me to see his disco stick. That's what's Lady Gaga calls it. But I didn't have time to laugh out loud, because this was a serious matter.

"What is this!" I said. "There are no liquids over three ounces allowed on a plane!"

"I …" England sounded pissed, you guys. "I don't quite understand ounces, since I use grams like the rest of the world, but there's no way that's more than three."

"There's only one way to be sure." I grabbed it with my hand. And by it I mean England's penis. It was all hard and firm and - well, no need to get side tracked. I could describe it all day long but I don't have that kind of time. Too busy being a hero and all.

England jumped when I gripped it like that. My hand actually was pretty cold, I'll give him that. His whole body got tense and he gritted his teeth. It was totally weird. I started to pump it. I needed to shake all that illegal fluid out of there. It totally wasn't going on my plane!

So I stroked him. Base to tip, working the shaft. I avoided the head at first but then I put my thumb over it, kinda like tickling it. I thumbed the little slit a bit. Boy this sounds pretty gay. But I swear it was only in the name of beating terrorists! Oh, and I worked the balls a little with my other hand.

"Ahhh …" was the bitchlike noise England made. It was so funny to me. You should have heard it! It almost sounded like he was enjoying it.

I tugged a little harder at him. A little more of the white stuff was coming out, but not much. Then I noticed that England was pushing himself into my hand. Like with each pump. I guess he maybe he wanted to help defend against terrorists after all! His cheeks had gotten all pink, which I thought was totally weird. And he was panting like a dog. A female dog. That was a great joke, ha ha!

Then all of a sudden he was leaning against me! Like his legs went weak and he couldn't stand up by himself. England's such a wimp. His breathing was all crazy, too. It even hitched and he tensed up and starting making more noises and then - well, then I pulled my hand away, of course.

Boy, I wish you could have heard the noise England made then! It was like a mad choke or something. He was not very happy at all.

"You stupid tease," he said. "I … I was almost there."

"What? We haven't even gotten on the plane yet!"

"Don't play dumb with me." In case you can't tell, boy and girls, England looked kinda mad at me as he said that. "You know damn well what you're doing! And I'm tired of you using this terrorist thing as an excuse. Now don't you dare give me a wanking and leave me hanging right before I come! Finish what you started!"

"But England, I totally was done! I needed to know if it was more than three ounces and it's not. You are free to board."

He looked so shocked. "Wha … what did you say?"

"You're done! I finished the pat down." I pointed toward the door. "Go and get your clothes on so you can catch the plane."

"But … but …" England's so funny when he stutters, ha ha! "That's it? You're going to just end it here?"

"Mmm-hmmm. Congratulations!" I struck an awesome hero pose, complete with peace sign. "You passed, dude!"

But England wasn't leaving. It didn't make any sense. He was done, so he should leave. Yet he totally just stood there! With this strange look on his face. What was up with that?

"You said you didn't want me to take your pants off," I said. "You said you didn't want me to see. Remember? That's what you said. Well, it's over, and now it's your wish. You can put your clothes on and I won't see anymore. Because that's what you wanted. That's what you said."

"Y- you … !" England made this noise like he was choking on his own words. Gosh, spit it out, you know? "I knew you were playing dumb! You set me up and somehow turned it around on me! How did I become the one who has to beg for it?"

"Beg for what?"

"Oh, drop it already. You're just acting stupid to make me say it." England glared pretty hard when he said this. I guess I struck a nerve.

"Hmmm, no."

"That's all you're going to say? My cock is pulsing right in front of you, begging for your touch because of what you started, and that's all you're going to say?"

"Hmmm, yes."

"Fine," England said as if the word tasted as bad as his scones. "If you're too big a man to admit what's going on, I'll play along. I'm not above dropping to your level for a while."

"You should really get moving, England. The plane is going to leave soo -"

Now boys and girls, I was totally interrupted before I could finish what I was going to say. Rude, right? You wouldn't believe what England did while I was talking. He grabbed my crotch over my pants and groped it. Like a big old squeeze. Talk about poor manners! I hadn't finished speaking yet!

"Well, looky here," said England with a handful of me. "Someone's a hypocrite! You're rather hard, too. Or is it a weapon?"

"Ha ha ha!" I laughed. Even though I was getting irritated. "Don't you ever interrupt me again!"

Guess what he did next, fellow heroes. No really, dude. Guess. He pushed me against the wall! Actually, it was more like a shove. No, a slam. Yeah, he SLAMMED me into the wall. What a jerk! Being rough with an agent of aviation law. I should have had him arrested!

His hands went up the bottom of my shirt. They were groping and feeling all over the place. Then he found my nipples and pinched them with both hands. Really hard, too! He even used his nails. I could totally feel them like digging in.

"How do _you_ like it? Hmmm?" said England with this nasty smirk on his face. "Things are different when it's happening to you, huh?" Then he twisted both my nipples. Like a purple nurple. "How's that feel, eh?"

I totally could have pushed him off if I wanted. I mean, I'm definitely stronger than him. Seriously, dude. Way stronger.

"What's wrong, America?" England totally thought he was being badass then, but I'm always more badasser than him in any given situation. "Aren't going to respond? This is what you did to me, you know."

No, I didn't know because he was totally wrong. I didn't pinch or twist. I just did standard TSA protocol. Even though technically there is no _standard_ TSA protocol, it's just what we feel is needed to make sure a person isn't dangerous. But totally don't tell England that.

England moved one of his hands back between my legs. He cupped it and started rubbing.

"It feels hard," he said. "I think it's a grenade. We better make sure."

He started messing with my pants button and fly. Before I knew it, he was sliding my pants down. I mean, it just happened so fast. I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to. Not that I'm saying I wanted him to! I mean, you know what I mean. Right?

"No underwear?" asked England. "Oh, ho ho ho. I knew you planned this."

"Ha ha! Oh, England!" I said that with my hero smile. "I always go commando!"

"Do you always get turned on doing standard TSA pat downs? Because you're as rock hard as my Stonehenge."

What a terrible comparison that was! Almost made me go soft right then and there. I mean, I'm not the kind of guy who pops a boner just from patting down his ally, if that's what you're thinking but - well, crap, I lost my train of thought now. England probably should have written this instead of me. He's good with words and books and other boring things like that. Though he probably would have written it all Shakespearean and that totally does not sound good when you're talking about jerking off and penises and stuff.

So then the craziest thing happened. England totally started sucking me off. Yeah, really! He just put my dick right in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it first, like feeling it over, I guess. Then he closed his lips over it and starting bobbing up and down. I was worried at first, because you know those Brits and their teeth! I wouldn't want a bloody dick from ol' snagglepuss down there. But I guess he knew to be careful, because I didn't feel them at all.

England then grabbed the base of my cock with his hand and pumped the part he couldn't fit into his mouth. He only had about half in, you see, boys and girls. Which I found very lazy. You don't do a half-assed job, dude. It's just not cool.

So of course, I pressed myself deeper into his mouth. Now I'm not saying I did this because I wanted to. Don't get that impression, readers. I totally only did it to teach England a lesson about effort. Or something like that.

"Mmmph," was the weird noise he made, like he couldn't breathe. He tried to pull back but I held his head and pushed it toward me. His lips went all the way up my shaft. Oh dear sweet baby Jesus, it was the craziest sensation. All hot and stuff. I especially liked the way his mouth muscles spasmed over my cock from fear of choking. That was something all right.

Oh, I forgot to mention the choking. That's what he started to do. He coughed and tried to pull back again. But I was teaching him a lesson. Yeah, that's what it was. That's totally the reason I did it. I didn't forget. I let him pull back for a second but then I pushed him right to where he was before. Deepthroating is serious business! You gotta take it seriously, dude.

But then England made this sound like he was going to throw up. It was this heaving type of sound. It was totally gross and I didn't want him to toss his cookies all over my dick, so I let him go.

He breathed all heavy and wiped his mouth. "You stupid bell-end! How could you make me choke like that?"

"Ha ha!" I laughed. "What's a bell-end?"

"Oi. Please stop talking."

"Hmmm! But England." I paused because he licked the tip of my dick. It caught me off guard, you see, and that's why I shuttered. Hmmm, yeah.

"Don' say 'nething," England said, but all garbled since his tongue was dragging spit all down my shaft.

But I liked to talk. I have an awesome voice. So I should use it of course! "Why are you so eager to suck me off, England? Just a few minutes ago you were all like 'please America, don't do this, I'm such a pussy, wah wah wah!'"

England made another choking noise. But this time I don't think it was from my cock in his throat. He pulled his mouth away and swallowed what I guess was a mix of spit and precum. "Y-you are always bothering me, you know."

"So? What changed?"

"I guess - I guess now I'm just hot and bothered." England looked so totally ashamed to say that! I couldn't help but chuckle a little. He wouldn't look me in the face and just went back to moving his mouth up and down that penisula (get it? Like peninsula?) that my was Florida. Ha ha, that's another great joke. I am so funny.

I really liked the noises England made while he did that. It was like a little "mmm mmm mmm" noise. But not like Campbell's soup "mmm mmm good." More like "mmm mmm I'm sucking you off." That kind of "mmm mmm." Then somehow I said "mmm" too. I don't know why. I didn't mean to. I guess just because I was thinking about the word. And Campbell's soup. That's freakin' awesome soup. Chicken noodle represent!

England had one of his hands on my balls, too. So many people forget the balls! It was nice to feel a sensation there, I guess. I'm sure I could tie how I liked that feeling to defeating terrorists if I thought about it hard enough. Really, I could. But I gotta keep this story moving, you know. Can't dwell on details.

So what happened next, you wonder? Well, I grabbed England's nose with my thumb and finger and held it closed so he couldn't breathe. I pulled up so he had to let go.

He snorted and almost got snot on my hand. Eew, right? "Wh … wh …" England was breathing all hard, if it wasn't obvious. "Why'd you do that?"

"Mmmm. You should stop."

"But why? Aren't you enjoying this?"

Leave it to England to bring himself down like that! Surely he was implying he wasn't doing a good job. And by job I mean blowjob. That guy is so negative. I totally didn't even say that.

"Oh, I get where you are going with this." England had this smirk on his face. He left his spot and walked over to the little bench in the room. He looked at it, and then to me. I swear, there was this look in his eyes. So weird! It was almost like he was asking me something just with the that look.

He sat down at the edge of the bench. Still with that totally weird look. I cannot correctly describe it! I wish someone else had written this story so you could know, boys and girls. Like France. He's good at words. But all his are French so never mind. I wouldn't be able to understand it. I just understand American.

"Well, are you going to come over here or not?"

"Ha ha! No!" That's what I told him. "That bench is disgusting! People always prop their shoes on it when they're untying or lacing them up!"

"I don't care right now, America. My legs are too wobbly to do this standing up."

"Why are your legs wobbly? You sure are weak, England! So much for the Mighty British Empire, ha ha!"

"You know why. Stop playing dumb and get over here."

England is so silly. A silly old man. That's what he is. That's why he sat down and leaned back on that little bench. That totally dirty bench. Why else would he do that?

"Are you ever going to get aboard the plane?" I asked.

"Fuck the plane," said England. Pardon his French, guys. Um, English. Whatever.

"No thanks! That thing is huge!"

He sighed. He loves to sigh! Because he does it all the time. "You are such a brat, America. I can't believe you're doing this to me. And don't say 'doing what?' with that stupid face you always make. You know what. You trapped me into this. You want me to beg for it."

"Heh."

"Very well. I'll play along, America." There was that smirk again. He was a very smirky guy. "Hmmm, let's see. How about we say that I am terrorist. And unless you give into my demands, I'm going to blow your plane up."

"I KNEW IT!" I proclaimed. "I freakin' knew it! Be right back. I'm getting my gun."

"Wait, stop!" You should have seen how flustered England was. "I'm just playing along! Let's say in this situation - somehow, and don't overthink this too much - that there isn't enough time and you just have to give into my demands to be a hero."

"Ha ha! Heroes don't give into terrorists!"

"But let's pretend, in this scenario, that they do."

I stood there, just looking awesome, for a few seconds. I totally wasn't lost in all kinds of thoughts. "This is not an ideal situation! What are your demands?"

Ooh. Dude. The look on England's face. It reminded me of France. "I _demand _that you come over here and fuck me into oblivion."

Now boys and girls! Sometimes we all have to make important decisions. Even heroes. And sometimes heroes have to make sacrifices. Normally I don't negotiate with terrorists. That just isn't heroic. It's also totally uncool. But I didn't have a choice in this matter. England said it was his demands or a bombed plane. What kind of hero would I be if I let a plane be bombed? A pretty crappy one. I'd be no better than Bin Laden! And he's a total Loser with a capital L!

And that's the reason - and the ONLY reason - that I put my dick inside him. Seriously. The only one. You guys believe me, right?

I went over to that bench, grabbed still very erect cock, and jammed it right on inside there. I'm very quick and efficient with these things. There's no time for lube when it's terrorists you're dealing with!

"Oouuuwwwww!" England screamed like a bitch. "Bloody hell, America! You don't just cram it in like that!"

I didn't see the issue here. I mean, it worked. It was in. Quit bitching about it.

England slowly slid himself out of me. "Ohhhh …" was this groaning noise he made. "That was painful. Ju - just let me get my bearings back before we try again." He laid (lain? lied? I am so badly with words, guys) back on the bench and closed his eyes.

How dare he rest when people were in danger! So I grabbed my cock again and brought it toward his asshole. I'd just started to jam it in again when he jerked up and yelled. "Bollocks, are you daft! That is not how you make love to someone!"

"Oh. See, I thought I was just fucking you."

Oh Jeez. I messed have hurt his feelings or something because he looked all pissy. He acts like such a chick sometimes.

"Have some tact, idiot."

"Those were your words, dude!" I told him, since I was totally right.

"Listen to me, America. I want you to do this right. First off, do you have any lube?"

"Nope! Normal people don't carry that around with them!" I did a thumbs up. It just seemed so totally appropriate. "We got stuff to do!"

"Damn. I guess you can just lick your fingers then." England laid (that right?) back down on the bench. His legs were spread apart and reached the floor. "Now do as I say, because I want this done properly. First I want you to lick your index finger. Stick it in your mouth. Get it really wet."

When I did that, I could still taste the Cheetos I had earlier as a snack. Mmm. Cheetos freakin' rock.

"Good," said England. "Now slide your finger, and only that finger, in. SLOWLY."

I didn't see the point in this. I already knew I could fit inside. I'd totally done it. So what if it was incredibly painful to him? He'd get used to it eventually. But I had to listen to him or he'd blow that school bus up and I can't have that. Crap, did I say school bus? I meant plane. Yeah.

So I slid my finger inside that ring of muscle. I kinda had it hooked, you know. Curved a little, to feel around more. It was all warm in there. Felt kinda nice since my hands were cold.

"Oi, America. You should have warned me," whined England. "Your finger is like ice."

I wiggled my finger a bit. "Oh, don't worry. It's warming up now."

"I can tell."

Now I am so smart that I already knew what England wanted next. Two fingers, of course! So I went ahead and jammed the next one in there.

"Ummnph," was another weird noise England made. "I didn't say I was ready for two."

"Dude, you're ready." I moved my fingers inside, pressing them against the soft wall inside. What a weird feeling! "Hey, watch this! I bet I can make a peace sign inside you!" So that's what I tried. I spread the two fingers and was totally awesome right inside England's ass.

"Auggh, stop!" he bitched. "Don't just stretch inside there as much as you want!"

"Ha ha! Sorry, I just thought it'd be cool!" And it was, guys. It totally was.

So I pulled out my fingers to insert them back in. But when I did I looked down and you know what I saw? It was pretty disgusting. Blood. Ass blood. Right on my hand! Eew. I almost blew chunks, guys. Almost.

"Gross!" I said. "Dude, you got blood on my fingers!"

"You did it to yourself, idiot. It only happened because you just shoved yourself in earlier without getting me warmed up."

"Wahh! This is totally disgusting! I don't want ass blood on me! Get it off, get it off, get it off!"

"Calm down! I should be the one who's angry here. I'm the one who's in pain."

I took my fingers and wiped them off on England's chest. He gave me a pissy look, but whatever. It's his blood. He can keep it.

"I'm so not sticking my dick in a bloody hole," I told him.

"Why are you so put off by blood? You know how many nasty, bloody scrapes and booboos I had to tend to for _you_ when you were growing up? Hmmph. What if I had been as squeamish as you?"

Ha ha! England totally said booboos. What a childish word, dude. "I'm not squeamish! I'm a hero! You have no idea how much blood I've seen. And not just other people's! My own, too. There's been so many times I've been left to lick my own wounds because after my Revolution you weren't around to do it for me."

Suddenly he had this sly look on his face. "Oh, really? So you're saying you miss me tending to your injuries?"

"No! Not at all! I don't mind licking my own wounds!" That stupid England. Trying to say I needed him to look after me. I'm totally independent, guys. I haven't needed him since the 1700's. I could prove it to him. So I bent down and sucked. I sucked hard at that blood. I was gonna suck it all out of there! My mouth created like an airtight seal, that's how furiously I was sucking. I was going to get every last drop of that stuff.

"Oh - oh, God!" England's body got all stiff when I did that. He had to grab onto the bench. "That licking your wounds thing is just an expresssssiiioonn ….. nnnggh…. "

England didn't have his usual way with words when I was doing all that sucking. He made lots of strange noises, though! He pressed his hand into my hair and ruffled it some.

"That f-feels fucking am-mazing, America … oh, God …"

Now as you can imagine, it was not a very good taste! Metallic and nasty. So I stopped after a minute or so. I wiped my mouth and looked at my hand to make sure there was no blood left on it.

"I think I got it all."

"Heh …" England's face was really red. Even down his neck and chest was pretty pink. I thought it was usually just chicks who get sex flushes. Oh, England. "I think I'm ready, America."

"All right!" I wrapped my hand around my cock again and pushed it in with one quick motion. Really quick.

"Ahh …!" England cried out. His whole body tensed up. "That's too fast again!"

I was all the way inside. "Jeez, there's just no pleasing you!"

"You're supposed to tease me. Put it at the entrance, make me want it, and slowly slide it in."

"Oh, I know you want it. Besides, I do things my own way!"

"You are too impatient!"

I was getting tired of talking. After all, my cock was totally engulfed in warm flesh. It was telling me to do certain things. Not that I listened to it because of that. I mean, I did it because of the terrorist thing. I wasn't losing sight of the real reason here. Totally not.

I pulled back and then thrust into England again. He yelped, probably because I did it pretty quick and hard. I'm a powerful guy, what can I say?

England arched his back. "Nggghhhhh …" he whimpered. "Th - that hurts, America … "

"It feels pretty good to me."

I did it again. A hard, fast push. I could feel his muscles quivering around my erection. It was pretty tight.

"St - stop. You're too rough!"

"Rough!" I was shocked by his accusation. "Am not! You're just being a wuss. It's not my fault if you can't take it."

I could be way rougher if I wanted to be. After all, I'm America! The strongest country in the world! I could literally split him in two if I wanted. But he probably wouldn't be very happy with me if I did that.

England kinda pissed me off with what he did next. He actually shoved me off! Yeah, he actually factually pushed me! To the floor! I fell right on my back and that totally did not feel good at all. Not cool, dude.

"I should have known you'd be a selfish lover," England was grumbling. "You're selfish about everything else, after all."

"I am not!"

England got off the bench and stood over me. "No, you are. You're a total brat. But I guess that's what I get for spoiling you."

"Ha! You didn't spoil me! If you did, I wouldn't have rebelled!"

"Shhhh," he said as he put a finger over my lips. I thought that was pretty rude, but whatever. "Shut up." He lowered himself and straddled his hips over mine. "I guess I'm just going to have to teach you, like I taught you everything else that let you be such a powerful nation in such a short amount of time. But how easily you forget that fact."

"Um, I know how to have sex, England. Duh! You left me and Canada by ourselves for years. You think we didn't experiment a bit - "

"Shush, idiot. I really don't want to hear about that."

"Funny story, actually! It all started with some pancakes …"

"Your first lesson, America." England was on all fours now, hovering above me. " … is to shut up. You talk too much. Normal people don't have conversations and tell stories while fucking."

"Ah, normal people are boring. I'm a nation! The best one in the whole world!"

England put his whole hand over my mouth. Rude! "I mean it. Shut the fuck up."

"Mmmmp!" (Translation: NOPE!)

"Now then. Second lesson." Oh, the look on England's face. He was smirking, but not his normal smartass smirk. It was a different kind. A lusty one, I guess, if I read the look in his eyes right. But then again, I'm not very good at judging those kinds of things. At least not according to England. And Japan. And France. And China. And Canada. I'll stop now.

England wrapped his hand around my cock. He pumped it a couple times but then stopped. Who was the tease now? Not me. It was totally England.

"Your second lesson is patience."

"I don't have time for patience, England."

"You're going to." He stopped moving his hand but just kept it there. I guess he was waiting for something. But if it was from me, he wasn't gonna get it. I didn't really know what he was doing.

He slid his hips forward, right above my boner. He lowered himself down and guided my cock right to his entrance. Then he stopped. He let the tip graze but not slip in. The precum that had leaked out smeared against his hole. "Mmmm," he said. "Isn't this nice, America?"

"Hmmph. I thought I wasn't supposed to talk."

"Oh, good. You're learning."

I wanted so badly to just push it in. Foreplay is totally a waste of time. It took all my willpower not to just move my hips just slightly up and cram it in. It was right there, touching the entrance even, so it'd be so easy. Ha ha, who am I kidding? I don't have willpower. I did just that.

"Ahhhhhmerica!" England yelped. He was mad again.

"What, dude! I can't just let it sit there all day!"

"Take it out! We're going to do this properly!"

I pulled out. Urgh. It felt cold to do that. England is so cruel. "You're a jerk."

England looked annoyed but he got over it pretty quickly, I guess. Because after a deep breath, he lowered himself down on me. He did it all slowly, still holding my cock for control. It was too slow if you ask me. Like inch by inch. You could count each one like sheep. One …. snore … two … snore … three … four … snore … five … OK, well admittedly at that point it wasn't boring anymore.

Once England had taken the entire length, he sat for a moment. Just to piss me off, I think. Because he totally knew I wanted movement. I wanted speed, power, action, friction, AWESOMENESS! Hehe, yeah.

He placed his hands on each side of the bench, and FINALLY started doing something. He moved himself up and down, riding my cock. But it was slow. I wanted to go faster.

"England, I wanna … I wanna …" I don't know why I couldn't get the words out. I mean, it's not like I was getting really caught up in everything. I was just doing this to save a plane from terrorists, remember? No other reason.

"Shhh." England kept rocking up and down. "Jus - just let me be in control. I'm still teaching."

I got distracted. I always get distracted easily for some reason. But this time it was because I really started to pay attention to what I was feeling. It was such an intense pressure. I cannot describe it. I told you someone else should have written this. I'm sure France has a million ways to say super awesome feeling against your cock, all warm and sticky and good. But much more eloquent than that. But hey, I just said "eloquent." That's a big word for me.

Now I'm not saying I liked it slow. Maybe it sounds like doing it like that made me appreciate it the sensations more, but that is not the case. You can trust me on this, guys. Totally.

But baby Jesus. It did feel awesome. Shame I couldn't properly put into words that feeling of warm flesh pressing against such a sensitive organ. Plus the tightness! No wonder England had bled. I felt so compressed inside him, but like in a good way. It was just such a wonderful feeling. Defeating terrorists always felt this good. It felt so good that suddenly _I_ was the one making silly little noises. I'm actually glad you couldn't hear them. They were totally embarrassing! I was making these short little panting noises, too. I could feel the pressure mounting inside me. I felt like I couldn't breathe. It was actually a little scary!

I grabbed England by the hips and pulled him tight and hard toward me. He made a funny grunting noise. Then I held him steady as I took over. I pumped in and out. Fast and hard. The way it should be.

"Uh! Uh! Uh!" England grunted as I thrust. "God, slow down, you're too rough again!"

"Noooooo, it feels great …"

I could hump so intensely, so powerfully, it could totally blow you away. It takes a certain amount of muscle to pull that off, and I could. Shame England was too much of a bitch to appreciate it. Wait. Or not enough of a bitch. Hmmm. Not sure about that one.

I continued this pace. England's whole body rocked with it. His face was so red. He scrunched it all up though, squeezing his eyes shut. He was squeezing them so hard that tears were starting to form at the corners. Silly Brit. He shouldn't squeeze his eyes so hard. It apparently made him cry, which is totally not cool, dude.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhmerica!" I liked how England's stutters matched my thrusts. "Y-you're hurting me … ngghh …"

What I did next was totally crazy. Please do not think less of me and of myself as a hero once I tell you what it was. Because I still haven't thought of the reason of how it connects to defeating terrorists. There must be one, of course, because I did it. But I still haven't thought of it.

I grabbed the back of England's head and pulled him to my face. Then I leaned up and pressed my mouth against his. I did that intensely too, just like I do everything else. It was so forceful that I created a seal like a vacuum, like I did earlier. I pushed my tongue in too, letting it roll around wherever I wanted. I guess England really liked it, because I felt him do the same to me. His tongue was then in my mouth, which was a totally weird feeling, moving and wriggling all around.

I was good at multitasking, too, because all the while I had not stopped my furious pace. Then I started to get that feeling. I don't know why it happened as soon as we started kissing. It must have been a coincidence, but all my muscles tensed. They locked, and I felt the pressure building. I couldn't hold on any longer. I stopped and I came. _Hard. _

It was such an incredible burst of pleasure. It sent waves down my cock that traveled to the rest of my body. I twitched in some funny ways. It was kinda embarrassing, actually. Other than that I couldn't move at first. I could feel it gushing out of me, and it was like I was paralyzed. I don't think I've ever felt so much cum empty out of me before. It felt like streams, though I suppose it only lasted a couple seconds.

It trickled down and out of England's asshole, but I didn't pull out quite yet. It just felt so nice to sit there and enjoy that high. That and I felt shaky and uneasy. I mean, it's not like I was laying there trembling. Heroes don't do that. But I guess it was something similar.

England finally pulled his tongue out of my mouth. "That was funny noise you made, America."

Oh, I forgot to mention that I may have made a sorta weird noise when I came. OK, very weird. Thank God it was muffled by England's mouth because it totally would have been even weirder otherwise.

"Dude, shut up."

I slid myself out. Doing so unplugged the backed up semen, and the white liquid dribbled down onto my stomach. I knew there was a lot. A string of it connected the tip of my dick back to England. It didn't snap until England pulled back and sat up near my feet.

"Hmmph." He had this pouty look on his face. "I knew you were selfish. You wouldn't even hold on long enough for me to come, too."

"As slow as you are, that would have been all day."

"Wanker."

"Heh." I noticed as I was speaking that my own chest was pink, too. Huh. I guess I get easily flushed as well.

I sat up and crawled over to England. I guess he didn't expect me to, because he looked all surprised. I got very close to him and licked my lips. He rolled his eyes, but then smirked and leaned forward to kiss me. Ha ha, silly England. I turned my head away and he missed.

"What was that for?" he asked, looking pretty annoyed.

"I'm not licking my lips for your mouth."

I gripped England by the base of his penis and lowered myself. Then I took it all in my mouth. Every freakin' inch. Because that's how you do it! Plus after you've eaten as many burgers as me, you lose a lot of your gag reflex.

"God!" England got very tense. He squeezed his eyes together hard, but this time I didn't see any tears. He bit his lip and ran his hand through my hair.

I was very good with my mouth. No, better than good. Totally awesome. Probably because I'm always putting stuff in there. Food, I mean. Don't get the wrong idea, boys and girls.

Though I was good at what I was doing. My tongue rolled and licked over his length. I played with the tip, still seeping precum. I alternated between this playful licking and just full-on deepthroating, taking it all at once. England seemed to really enjoy both.

"Where the bloody hell did you - ahhh - did you learn how to do this?" England was literally writhing as I did this. He was all squirmy with pleasure. Dare I say it looked kinda cute. "Y-you were so bad at everything else."

England was totally dumb to be talking to me while he had his cock down my throat. It's not like I could really respond.

"I guess in this case being - ah, ah! -i-intense and too eager isn't really a b-bad thing," he said, breathing all heavy while talking.

Hehe. I bit down a little when he said that.

"Fuck!" He jumped a little. "Knock it off, America! I was actually trying to complement you!"

"Sowwy." I sounded kinda funny with his dick still in my mouth.

I flicked my tongue over the tip again, running over the little hole. I don't know why but I was salivating like crazy. My mouth was literally dripping wet. I was getting spit all over his cock. I must have been thinking about food or something. Because it totally wasn't from England. His dick was one of the worst things I ever tasted. That precum was so bitter! But what do you expect from the guy who eats such nasty things like scones and marmite? It can't be helped.

"Ah … ngghhh … A-america, I'm gonna come …" panted England.

That was my cue to stop! I definitely did not want a mouthful of his nasty jizz. I spit it out. And then I spit out the precum that was already in my mouth. But don't worry, boy and girls. I'm not heartless. I grabbed him with my hand and pumped.

"Ah … your hand is still so cold …"

Hehe. I knew it was.

Then I heard this squeaky noise. It was England, who tightened all his muscles at once. He came all over my hand, making it all white and sticky. It was kinda gross but I didn't say that out loud.

He let out a big sigh and let his muscles relax. Then he flopped backwards to lie down. "God …" he said, still panting really hard.

I reached over and wiped the semen off my hand and onto his chest. "There you go."

"Uhhhhh." That was a groan he made, I think.

I leaned over him and smiled my hero smile. Even after being ruffed up by sex I still look totally awesome.

He looked up at me. "Hmmm. Well, I guess you beat me."

"Ha ha, yeah! I beat you off, alright. Boy, you don't last very long!"

"Er, no, you idiot. I mean you defeated me."

"Hmm?

"Remember? The terrorist thing? You did this to prevent the plane from being blown up, or whatever?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" I laughed. "Ha ha! You didn't think I forgot, did you? Because I totally didn't!"

"Right." He was smirking at me again. "Whatever you say. Though I suppose I better get ready to board then."

He may have that smirk, but I still had my hero smile. "Ah, sorry but you can't! We took so long that you missed it."

"What! But you're the pilot!"

"I know. I missed it, too. Darn!"

England stood up. "That doesn't make sense!"

Ha ha. It's so funny to see him get annoyed. So I reached up and smacked his bare ass.

"Ah!" he said. "Cheeky bastard!"

"Guess you'll just have to wait for the next flight."

"And when is that?"

"Quarter past a refractory period."

Ha ha! I really am a cheeky bastard. And even though I thought I was totally clever in saying that, and I was certain it'd fluster England, he only gave me that same smirk.

"Only a quarter past?" he teased. "You're too quick, America. Better make it a full half hour."

Oh, snap.


End file.
